This is not a book of blame. It's a book of memory-of mid-conversations that faded, text threads that turned cold, and bonds that couldn't bend far enough to last. It captures a passing season in the author's life when friendships didn't end with fireworks, but with a hush. Everyone played their part. That's all. No need to rehash what time has already softened. This chapter has since ended- folded gently and placed on a higher shelf. Time brings understanding: not all good things are meant to stay, and some losses can be rewritten into light. In the end, nothing ever truly breaks. It stretches, reshapes, and endures the test- and in time, becomes whole again. What remains is not for revenge. It is for release. And with that, we are free to begin again.
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